A Heart of Gold

Oh... And please forgive me if this isn't up to usual rave standards...
The hour is late, I need some sleep, and I'm a bit disgruntled/dissatisfied at my own creative uncertainty.
Talk to you soon and thanks for the update.

Wow... That said it all didn't it? It was just so awesome, and so hard to turn away (until you find out Jim Lewis posted on the forum and you rush to see). Great job o' half of mine! Terribly ushy gushy. More please!

Kermit watched as Robin woke up, careful not to look at the young frog's eyes.

Robin looked around, surprised but not at all displeased to find that he was still in Kermit's arms.

"Good morning, Robin," Kermit said simply.

Robin hugged him. "Good morning, Uncle Kermit," he said.

Kermit held him close for a moment. "You should get ready for school," he said quietly.

"Okay," Robin said reluctantly.

They slowly got up from the bed and, holding hands, wandered out into the hall.

Robin immediately broke off to wait in line for the bathroom, while Kermit went into his own bedroom.

He stood and looked at the pictures on his wall. Here, on the lower left, was the swamp and all its inhabitants. So many children...

He lifted his eyes to the one above it. All the residents of the boarding house. He could pick out their voices now, as they were getting ready to do whatever it was they did.

He shifted his eyes to the right. There was everyone in the company.

His eyes slid down. Sesame Street.

He looked away, remembering...

He had just arrived on the base.

"So you're one of the new guys, huh?" a Lance Corporal asked.

"Yeah," he gulped.

"So you just came from home."

"Yup."

The Lance Corporal stopped what he was doing and looked straight into Kermit's eyes. "So home still exists?" he asked quietly.

Kermit frowned. "Of course it does," he said softly.

The Lance Corporal shook his head. "You stay here long enough," he said. "You'll start to doubt it sometimes."

Kermit didn't believe him.

Many months later, a new recruit came. A Private First Class, drafted in, like Kermit.

"You're Kermit the Frog!" he'd said excitedly

“Yup."

"Well fancy that. My little sister used to watch you all the time on Sesame Street."

Kermit looked up. "How old is she?"

"Now? Oh, she's twelve. Going on thirteen, she'll be quick to tell you. And even quicker to act it."

"Oh." Kermit nodded. "So I take it she doesn't watch Sesame Street anymore." He said it teasingly.

"Well," the new recruit grinned, "Not if she knows there's somebody else home."

Kermit hesitated. "...Do you know if they're still new episodes?" he asked.

"I think so," he said thoughtfully. "...Why?"

Kermit shook his head. "Just wondering," he said quietly

It was hard to imagine something so innocent on the same planet as the place he was in.

Kermit sighed and shook his head at the memory. He had gotten to be good friends with that recruit. His name was Craig Rivers. He had sandy hair and a Southern accent, and he insisted on calling Kermit "sir," even though they were the same rank. He had been there when...

Kermit looked at the center picture.

Jim Henson and Kermit the Frog looked back at him.

He looked at them, and then looked at his reflection in the glass. He felt something snap inside of him and he marched to the bedroom door.

He looked out into the hall. Now who could- Oh, good!

"Fozzie?"

The bear stopped. "Good morning, Kermit!" he said cheerfully.

"Could you give me a hand?" Kermit said.

"Sure!" Fozzie said.

Kermit stepped aside, indicating for the bear to come into the room, which he did. Kermit closed the door.

"I've gotta get out of this uniform," the frog said as he slowly, carefully, set about removing the sling. "But I can't strain my shoulder. It's really only the shirt I'm worried about, I mean I think I can take care of the pants and boots myself, but... The shirt, I'm not so sure."

"Well okay," Fozzie said.

"Thanks," Kermit said. He had finally removed himself from the sling and he tossed it onto his bed. He unbuttoned his buttons. "Okay, this is where I'll need some help..."

"You got it!" Fozzie helped ease the shirt off of his shoulders and arms, and handed it to the frog.

"Thanks," Kermit said. He set it down on the bed, sat down next to it, and pulled his boots up to where he could untie them.

Fozzie watched as his friend's flippers appeared from the big, heavy boots that then dropped to the floor. Kermit rubbed them gently. Flippers never took kindly to most sorts of footwear.

Then Kermit stood up, pushed the pants off, set them on the bed, and looked himself over.

"Here," Fozzie said. "You're collar's all scrunched up..." He set about straightening it.

"Oh, thanks," Kermit said.

"Here, let me get..." Fozzie turned him to straighten the collar in back as well. His hands suddenly moved in slow motion when he saw the scar on the back of his best friend's shoulder.

Kermit gulped, knowing. He turned and looked his best friend straight in the eyes. "It's okay, Fozzie," he said quietly.

Fozzie hugged him. "I'm so glad you're home," he said.

"Me too," Kermit said, hugging him.

After a moment, he checked all of his pockets, removing seemingly endless letters and a handful of pictures, including miniature versions of the ones on the wall. Then he opened his rather small closet, set the boots on the floor very straight, and hung his uniform up on a hangar.

"I'm never putting that on again," he said quietly.

Fozzie nodded, then thought for a moment. "Kermit?" he said quietly. "What if some reporters or somebody wants to see you in uniform?"

Kermit scrunched his face up. "We'll tell them to look at pictures," he said. He came and sat next to his friend on the bed. "You know, it's funny," he said. "I'd completely forgot about ever thinking what the press has to say about anything."

Fozzie smiled softly. "That's the way it should be," he said quietly.

"Yeah," Kermit nodded. "That's how it was before we made it big, I guess."

"Yup," Fozzie said. "You know what, Kermit?"

"Hm?"

"I don't regret it anyway."

"Even with the press?" Kermit said.

"Even with the press," Fozzie said.

Kermit grinned at him teasingly. "Of course not," he said, "You're not involved with a lady pig."

OH IT'S FOZZIE!!! AND PICTURES!!! AND SESAME STREET!!!! (That part ROCKED!) AND FOOOOOOOOOOOZZIE!!! I need to know about this woman he has and why he is SO much like me when it comes to them! So, in essence, MORE PLEASE!!!

This chapter hit me pretty hard. Why? Those pictures, and to find there's a new one there with the four we already had from Flippersteps. Kermit shucking the military uniform, shedding that pseudo-skin that made him someone he wasn't. And then there's Fozzie... Finding the scar... *Gasp! Of course the conversation was great, reminds me of TGMC and some other story I can't recall at the moment where they've had talks like that.

Aw man, this story's coming along... If only I had some determination to decide my own little... Never mind, that's for another day.
So post more today... Down at MC Rocks!

<Comes back with various stuffed creatures- two cats, a snake, a lamb, a sea otter, a dolphin, and a dog>

<leaves>

<Comes back with tray of steaming mugs of hot chocolate>

<Gives everyone a great big, warm hug>

<sighs and sits down>

You've seen some painful scenes flow forth from my pen... And I'm sorry to say, you ain't seen nothing yet. This chapter... hurts.

But before I post, I have to say something a little more upbeat about how it opens. See the way it opens is a clear result of this story being written through torment lines. You'll see what I mean when I post it, but basically this is where ignorance plays in. I was looking for some information to continue the scene, and I was stalling while I looked for it. I never found it anyway, and made do without it. Still, it had some funny effects.

It was a box addressed to Private First Class Kermit the Frog, from the United States Marines.

It was a box addressed to Private First Class Kermit the Frog, from the United States Marines, sitting on the floor.

It was a box addressed to Private First Class Kermit the Frog, from the United States Marines, sitting on the family room floor.

It was a box addressed to Private First Class Kermit the Frog, from the United States Marines, sitting on the family room floor in the Muppet Boarding House.

It was a box addressed to Private First Class Kermit the Frog, from the United States Marines, sitting on the family room floor in the Muppet Boarding House, surrounded by a sea of countless Muppets.

It was a box addressed to Private First Class Kermit the Frog, from the United States Marines, sitting on the family room floor in the Muppet Boarding House, surrounded by a sea of countless Muppets, with Kermit the foremost among them.

To put it simply- it was the center of attention.

"Are you gonna open it?" Fozzie asked.

Kermit set his hand on the box.

They leaned forward.

Kermit opened the box and peered inside.

"What is it?" Gonzo asked.

Kermit reached in and pulled something out.

He held it up.

It was a shirt. Not just any shirt- his shirt. His combat shirt.

He bit his lip.

It was the combat shirt of his combat uniform... complete with the bullet hole in the back right shoulder.

He dropped it back into the box.

He sighed. "It's all in here," he said. "Everything. My uniform, and my equipment- the stuff they can easily make more of, anyway."

"So... Nothing you really care to look at," Gonzo said.

Kermit stared at something in the box.

"Well... Maybe..." he whispered.

He reached in and touched the thing he was staring at.

It was clean and it was soft and it was colored: red, white, blue. It had stars and it had stripes and it had a whole world of meaning that was clear and distinct and abstract and vacant and distant and gone and there and half-forgotten and unforgettable all at once.

He pulled it out of the box and cradled it in his good arm while everyone craned and strained and inflicted pain to look.

"It was just always there," he whispered, his eyes in some far-away place. "It stood for us, and… and we defended it." He frowned and looked at Fozzie. "That's all a war is, you know? A great big game of capture the flag."

Fozzie put his hand on Kermit's back. "They won't get this one," he said.

"No," Kermit said, looking once more at the fabric in his hands. "They won't."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

A full day had passed since the box had come.

They were in the family room again, as usual, but their attention was turned to a different box.

This one talked.

The news reporter was warning them of some so-called sensitive material. "You may want to have any young children leave the room," she said.

"Robin, cover your eyes," Rowlf said lamely.

"Our story takes us now to Baghdad..."

"Not this again," Robin whispered, covering his eyes.

Fozzie curled up and half-shielded his eyes with his scarf.

The entire room seemed to want to look away... but no one really did.

"Troops are still working to find a way to disband the Child's Corps-"

It was not until then that Kermit tensed. His entire body stiffened to the point that he could have passed as a cardboard cutout of himself.

"It's real!" Clifford said. "Look, are you blind? Look at the screen! Those are LITTLE! KIDS!"

"It could be photoshopped," Rizzo offered.

"Why would they fake something like this, though?" Rowlf said.

"Fake something like this?" Miss Piggy snapped. "Why would they do something like this?"

"Because it's the perfect weapon," Kermit said miserably, looking at his hand. "They can train the kids to do anything, and trust that our moral compasses won't let us hurt them." He bit his lip.

"But what idiot would send a kid into battle?" Gonzo said.

"That's what I'm saying!" Johnny said.

"Si! Dey probably made it up, hokay?" Pepe agreed.

"They would not make this up," Clifford said.

"Dey made it up! Es not real, hokay!"

Robin was curled up into a tiny ball. He turned and looked at the older frog at his side. "Uncle Kermit?" he whispered. "Is it real?"

All eyes turned to Kermit. He was trembling slightly, staring very pointedly at his left hand.

"I wish I could tell you it wasn't," he whispered. He stood up. "I wish I could tell you-" He shook his head and ran up the stairs.

Miss Piggy was instantly on her feet. "Kermie?" She followed him.

She opened his bedroom door without knocking.

He was on his bed, curling around his pillow, getting frustrated that he couldn't just bury himself, and slapping at the sling for inhibiting him, not caring whether or not he hit his arm.

She closed the door, crawled onto the bed, put one arm firmly around him, and held his face with her free hand. "Kermie, what is going on?" she demanded.

He stared at her, distraught, stared into her eyes with his.

"Do they always make it sound like the Child's Corps is only in Baghdad?" he asked.

She caught her breath. "They've never been mentioned anywhere else, Kermie-"

"Well that must be a terrific luxury for civilians!" he said bitterly. "Ignorance is bliss! Never been truer!" He tried to tear away from her.

He wasn't about to get away with that. Miss Piggy had the elastic sort of grip where the harder he tried to pull away from her, the quicker he snapped back. It wasn't much good for his shoulder, but he hardly seemed to care at that moment.

"Kermie, what-"

"They're everywhere, Piggy!" he said. "They're everywhere! They're mixed in with everybody else! You never know when the person shooting you is going to be your age or twice your age or half your age or hardly even able to walk yet!" He shook with tears. "That's why they use them, Piggy. It's not just another number for the troops, it's psychological! They know we can't stand it! Because who on earth would hurt a child? Who on earth would..."

She trembled. "Oh Kermie..." She buried her face in his good shoulder. "Kermie..."

"Answer me, Piggy," he said, pushing her away. "Who would hurt a child? Would I hurt a child? I, Kermit the Frog, who worked on SESAME STREET, would I hurt a child?"

She stared at him, frozen, afraid.

"OF COURSE I WOULDN'T!" He said. "But I DID! I-" He suddenly fell back into a helpless little heap of shaking tears. "I... I killed him..." he choked. "I killed a little boy..."

Miss Piggy could only stare.

"He was... he was just a little boy," Kermit sobbed. "And I looked.... I looked in his eyes and...." He was shaking too hard for complete thoughts now. All he managed to articulate, through the mess of tremors and tears, was, "...Robin's age..."

He had somehow managed to sit up, curl into a ball, bury his face in his good hand, and ignore the sling that held his other hand in place. He seemed to have stopped crying now.

"I told you, you would hate me if you knew," he whispered. He did not question or accuse. He simply stated what, in his mind, was fact.

In her mind, it was pure fiction. It wasn't even real... yet... Oh, never mind it!

"No," she said. She firmly folded her arms around him. "No, Kermie, I don't- I couldn't- I..."

She held him close.

"Kermie..."

He let his head drop onto her chest.

"Piggy," he mumbled. "Why are you staying?"

She nuzzled her head on the back of his neck. "Where else would I be now, Kermie?" she whispered. "Where else would I go?" She snuggled him close to her. "Who else do I love like you?" she prodded. "Hm?"

He was quiet. "I don't deserve you at all," he whispered.

"Stop saying that," she whispered. "And what difference would that make, anyway?"

He sighed. "I feel like a traitor," he whispered. "I feel like I'm not even me."

She stroked his cheek. "You were a soldier, Kermie," she whispered. "Now you're home. Now you can be you."

"With a guilty conscience," he said.

She rocked him. "It will be all right, Kermie," she whispered. "It will be all right."

Lisa... I... I'm crying... My frog... My Kermit the Frog... He... Kermit... You can't stop these tears... Oh Kermit... Oh oh Kermit... No Kermit... Not Kermit... That just... No... It... Sesame Street... Wow... It's just so good... But so bad... And so awful... But at the same time I know it'll all be okay... It's Kermit... It's Piggy... It's Gonzo... It's Fozzie... It will all be okay... It's the Muppets... It's Lisa... It'll all be okay...

I know you're suffering as much as the rest of us. And that's why I love ya, you can't write something like this and forget about it the next day, you're you, Lisa wouldn't do that. Thank you Lisa. Love ya. And, yes, more please.

<closes eyes> Yeah... there's... there's just no way to soften a blow like that... but, you're right Prawnie... Lisa's suffering just as much as we are... maybe more so, since, like the frog, she's got a guilty conscience. It IS shocking... makes me feel cold, and stunned... and wounded, right to the core of my being. Kermit, who worked on Sesame Street...ouch... so powerful... almost too powerful...but that's alright. Lisa's flexing her writing muscles here, and you're gonna get punched from time to time...

Anyway, you've heard me say this before, Lisa... but there's a sort of ...beauty in this kind of hurt. It's really almost savage...raw, and something you can't defend against. There's something very true in the way that this is something that can never ever be undone.

Kermit... really isn't okay... and, I don't think part of him would EVER be okay after this. Not ever. Some wounds just can't be healed. That's why I sort of put this in an alternate universe... everywhere else, Kermit is untouched by this... unscarred and unscathed.

Too much experience with death as a kid, I think, has meant that things like this... that are forever, that can't ever go back to normal, make a huge impression on me.

You've socked me in the stomach Lisa, all over again... but...don't worry folks... as I said before... it hurts, but it's worth it.

Will everything be OK? Honestly... *Hugging stuffed kitty cat. I can't tell you it will. But then again, I'm a bit unsure of my own world, so how can I offer any comfort to you or that frog?
Will probably contact you guys soon... But until then... New Year's, and more please!

There is so much shock, and trajedy in those lines. Like, there's a box...stareing at them all...and we dread to know what memories it may prompt.

Speaking of shock: "Answer me, Piggy," he said, pushing her away. "Who would hurt a child? Would I hurt a child? I, Kermit the Frog, who worked on SESAME STREET, would I hurt a child?"

No.

No, you wouldn't.

No, you wouldn't Kermit.

But.

But you did.

Becuase you had to. Becuase you had to protect your country. Becuase you are a good citizan. Because, if you didn't, then we would be taken over and it wouldn't be some kid fighting, it would be our kids, Robin...Belinda, Betina...You had to, Kermit...and we will forgive you, Piggy will forgive you...can you forgive yourself?

While it's somewhat painful, you have written this chapter so unbelievably well. I am impressed as usual, but even more so because of the subject matter. This is just such an important story you're writing. Keep it up. That is all.

Sam nodded. He awkwardly put his wing on Kermit's shoulder. He tried to think of something to say, but... he couldn't.

Kermit stepped forward and gave his flag one very heartfelt salute.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~​

It was just after lunchtime when the doorbell rang.

Robin was the closest. "I'll get it!" he announced, and he bolted. He opened the door. He suddenly felt very quiet.

There were two tall, uniformed Marines standing there. One of them had sandy hair, bright blue eyes, and a face that looked like it had spent most of its life grinning for any reason at all. The other was a little taller, with dark hair, gray eyes, and a slightly more solemn face.

"Well, you must be Robin!" the sandy-haired one said with a bright Southern twang. He looked a little younger than the other.

"Yeah," Robin said quietly.

The younger one squatted down to be more on level with the young frog. "Is yer Uncle Kermit home, by chance?" he asked.

"And did you know that he never stops talking about you?" the older one asked.

Robin squirmed and looked at the younger one. "Are you gonna take him away again?" he whispered.

"No siree, not in a million years!" the younger Marine declared. "We're jest a couple pals, that's all."

"Well what the hey," a voice behind Robin said, and they turned to see Kermit leaning against the wall. "Who sent you two home?" he teased.

"Same folks as sent you home, sir!" the younger one said, standing up and saluting.

"For the millionth time, quit calling me sir," Kermit grinned. He pushed himself off the wall, stepped over, and put a hand on his nephew's shoulder. "I see you've met Robin," he said.

"Sure have, sir!" the younger one said.

"Sheesh..."

"Are you kidding, Frog? We all ready knew him," the older one said, rolling his eyes.

"I guess you would," Kermit grinned. "Come on in, guys."

The soldiers came in and instantly found themselves bombarded by a massive flood of Muppets, all questioning their identities, purpose, and preference of pen, pencil, or keyboard.

They awkwardly shifted their weight and wondered how on earth to direct attention to one individual long enough to answer a question.

They knew Kermit well enough to interpret that he was trying to get everyone's attention, and getting exasperated.

Finally he shouted, "QUIET!"

"I said as much as I do like to support the troops, I am not posing for-"

"Yup! Kermit's officially home!" Fozzie said, interrupting Janice.

"Haven't done that in a while," Kermit muttered under his breath. "Guys, this is Pfc. Craig Rivers and Pfc. Robert Geraldson. They were in my unit," he explained. He gestured to the younger and older Marines, respectively.

"Ohhhh," they all said, nodding in sudden, synchronized understanding.

Craig tilted his head forward and waved slightly. "Howdy do," he said quietly.

"Well come on, guys, why don't you sit down-" was all Kermit had to say before the sea of Muppets burst into conversation again and pressed the visitors into the family room.

Well... That was, um, fun. Kermit and Sam joined in unison over the flag... And Kermit's unit mates arriving... But it kind of feels shorter than a short chapter, almost feels a bit unfinished. Oh well, at least there's more to come.
*Nervously, imitating Fozzie: There is more to come... Right?
Oh Lisaaaa... Please say there's more to come! And post it soon!